


I love you

by Messyfruit



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: At least they still have another 8 years together, Bittersweet, Canon Universe, Eremin - Freeform, M/M, Sad Fluff, but hopefully it can make you feel like it's ok? :), erearu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 10:02:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9603137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Messyfruit/pseuds/Messyfruit
Summary: Armin has a small breakdown over Ymir's curse. Eren hears him from his cell, and a heartfelt conversation through the prison bars follows.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to #ereminseason day 6: hands(/eyes combo). 
> 
> I listened to The Cinematic Orchestra's 'Arrival of the Birds & Transformation' while writing this and I'd love it if you heard it before (or while) reading. 
> 
> It takes place between ch.88 and ch.89, and is something I could headcanon. Please enjoy.

Coming back from Shiganshina the second time was hard – impossibly hard. The first day or two, Armin couldn’t even accept that he had returned at all; his friends had made a mistake; he shouldn’t have been saved over their commander. Eren made sure to dispute that the moment Armin was allowed down into the basement of the courthouse where he was imprisoned, but Armin thought he saw a different truth in his superiors’ faces. How could he even attempt to flag his own worth to them?

It had taken another three days to deal with the rest of the storm in his mind. He didn’t think he’d ever recover properly, but he’d gotten over the worst fits of tears by now – or so he hoped; it was becoming all but impossible to schedule it around when his childhood friends were both asleep, since Eren started having night terrors and would wake up several times per night now. Despite all the forces of pain tearing Armin apart from the inside, nothing stung him harder than the wounded whimpers he’d hear Eren make within that dark cell; how his friend writhed and whined, cried and shook – and sometimes screamed. To Armin it sounded like he was being slowly crushed to bits inside a titan’s fist, and just the image alone was enough to crush Armin along with him. He’d stand by the bars and coo at his friend, whispering sweetly that everything was ok – that it was all a dream, that he was safe now, safe and alive. People would ask Armin if he didn’t want to sleep in a proper bed soon, if the chair didn’t hurt yet, but every single time Eren would wake up and hurry to the bars, it reminded Armin that it was worth it to stay down here with him. He’d look at his most beloved friend, he’d see the tears, the puffed eyes, the confusion and the fear – and then he’d see the slowly growing glimmer of comfort. Armin could almost say he’d never felt more inner peace than when Eren would reach out through the steely poles between them and brush his fingers. The first few times, Armin had explained to him where they were, as the other tended to forget, but as it became more routinely, they no longer had to exchange those excess words; all it took was their hands coming together, touching, stroking, fingers lacing in silent understanding and comfort – Armin would even say silent ‘love’, because it certainly felt that way to him; in the darkness, surrounded by hurt, finding absolute comfort in one another was truly beautiful. A wordless confirmation that as long as he had Eren, and Eren had him, they'd be all right. The world may crumble around them, but they’d be all right.

Then Eren had told him about Ymir’s curse. Armin’s marble face didn’t show it then, but now it was him who crumbled, not the world. He couldn’t care less about his own thirteen-year limit; Eren having eight years left at best, was a reality he couldn’t swallow. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing the boy he loved – the boy he needed. He didn’t say anything then, but his heart was shattering in his chest.

That night, his chair was cold and hard for the first time; his back ached like he’d been sleeping on it for weeks, his eyes stung with sleep depravation, and when Eren started tossing, Armin didn’t approach the bars; he couldn’t bear it. Seeing Eren’s face, feeling his warm hands against his own, sensing the comfort – he couldn’t do it. Not when all he could think about was how cold his hands were without Eren’s, and how scared he was for the years when there would be no hands to hold, no warmth.

He hunched in the chair, grasping his chest from the ache. Teeth gritted and head pounding from holding back tears all day, he choked, noises gurgling in his throat. He thought he might vomit as he heard Eren whimper, and images of a far away world they’d never see flashed through his mind. There would be no time for that, he though. Not while there was a war going on, not while they were bound by military laws to follow orders and never retire – not while they both held unique powers sorely needed by everyone here, inside these walls. There would be no dream come true, only nightmares – nightmares that would end with his friend withering away before him, until he’d finally die and leave Armin behind in this cruel world, alone. 

At some point, Armin lost his strength to the pain, and he slid off the chair as his body went limp. His knees crashed against the stone floor and his lungs inhaled deeply before the sobs started escaping him. His forehead pressed against the cold rock and he couldn’t help but cry ever louder; once he had started, there was no way of stopping it. He hurt so deeply, he thought he might pass out, and he could barely hear anything above his own lamenting for the longest time – until the bars behind him clanged. It took another few clangs and a loud whisper to quell his whimpers, even though he knew who was calling him.  
“Armin, what’s the matter? Are you sick? Talk to me!”  
Armin heard that familiarly affectionate voice: the voice that went soft for him and nobody else, the voice he couldn’t stand to lose. He sat up on his knees but couldn’t turn around to face him. “I’m sorry,” he stammered through the tears. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”  
“Come off it, you know I’d wake myself up if you didn’t,” Eren said carefully, kicking the bars a last time, weakly. “What’s the matter?”  
“I’m sorry,” Armin whispered again. He wiped his face with his sleeve, though it didn’t help much with tears still running. He held his breath and tried to stop shaking, using willpower alone; it didn’t work.  
“Armin, look at me,” Eren pleaded. He was grasping the bars now, sickly pale, knuckles whitening, bangs damp from nightmares, yet eyes quietly aflame. Once Armin obliged, turning his head to look shamefully over his shoulder, he recognized that fire instantly: it wasn’t anger; it was that bottomless passion that his friend reserved for him, and him alone. Eren had never needed to name it as such, but Armin knew that his friend had a love for him that nobody else could touch. And despite the shame, that love now forced Armin onto his feet. He wiped at his eyes again before approaching the bars with his head hanging. He grasped the bars underneath Eren’s grip, but the other simply released his own hands and rested them calmly on top of Armin’s. Armin felt his eyes on him but didn’t look up.  
“Please tell me?” Eren’s voice, like his touch, was warm.  
“It’s the curse,” Armin whimpered. He let go of the bars to carefully take Eren’s hands in his. “I can’t lose you…” Shaking his head for emphasis, he stepped closer and leaned against the bars. Eren read him easily, and came closer to rest his forehead against the other’s. When the boy didn’t say anything, Armin continued: “at this rate, we’ll never be free… We’ll never-“ His voice broke and he took a moment to keep it together. “What if we’ll never see the outside world?”  
Eren was quiet for another moment, before sighing. “Thirteen years is a long time… You’ll definitely see it.”  
At that, Armin’s knees shook dangerously, threatening to collapse, and he grabbed Eren’s shoulders in desperation. “I don’t want to see it without you! I want you there – I want you to see it!” After his words echoed and faded against the hard, soulless walls of the dungeon, the only thing that could be heard was Armin’s tears hitting the floor below them with vulnerable loudness – and what he thought sounded like bed sheets ruffling carefully in the neighboring cell. Eren must have heard it too, because they both kept silent for a long while, before the other eventually sighed and put a hand on Armin’s shoulder. “That’s my dream… But if I don’t see it, that’s ok,” he said slowly. He put two fingers underneath Armin’s chin and nudged him to look up. He smiled softly once the other followed his leading touch. “Because I saw the world in your eyes the day you showed me that book… And it’s been leading me ever since.”  
When Armin quickly hung his head again, to hide fresh tears, Eren dropped his head as well, and tried to re-capture the other’s eyes. “Armin, look at me… No amount of salt water, dancing lights, mountains and magical new landscapes can ever give me what you gave me. If I never make it outside these walls, I’m fine with that, because you brought the world to me…” He studied the profile of Armin’s face as the boy sobbed against his own shoulder to muffle the sound. When he didn’t let up, Eren exhaled deeply and raised his hand to stroke Armin’s cheek. “But, you know what? Eight years is a long time, too…” His voice was mild, hushed, and warm. “I’m sure we’re still going to see the ocean, at the very least. I saw it in dad’s memories, so I know where to find it… It’s not that far away. I’ll take you there. Even if it’s just a vacation, I’ll pester Hanji till I we get one. We'll go get that freedom.” He sounded fiercely convinced, yet Armin kept crying. But Armin wasn’t crying over the hopelessness anymore; he was crying over how much he loved the boy before him; he was crying because Eren was the sweetest boy in the world, and Armin was so lucky to have him, in this moment if not the next, and he was struggling to accept the realization that every moment with him, was worth the last five years of lonesome pain – if not more.  
“Eren,…” he whispered, but words failed him. He loved his best friend.  
“I know…”

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to make this a love confession without the actual words "I love you", because I feel like they already do this with everything except explicitness. I hope it worked - let me know how I did, if you're so kind?


End file.
